Merry Christmas, Dean Winchester
by Otterling
Summary: Secret Santa gift involving Castiel coming back from the Leviathan incident. Fluff, smooches, trenchcoat love, and mistletoe abound. This is slash. Please be advised.


He was cold. That was the first thought that ran through Castiel's mind as his eyelids fluttered open. There was a pervasive numbness that ran the length of his body and he lay staring up into the darkness for a few moments as he tried to process what had happened. A soft static noise caught his attention and he realized a moment later it was the gentle lap of waves as they bumped against the inside of his leg. A shudder wracked his body and the thought struck him again that he was cold only he shouldn't be. He was dead, right? He could remember the Leviathans, the horrid squirming feel of them just under his skin like a parasite eating him away from the inside, and he knew he'd lost control at some point. His last clear memory was Dean's face, twisted in worry and fear before the darkness had consumed him. The rest was little more than blurs and fleeting images of water, deep and dark, rushing up to consume him as he waded in.

Castiel shuddered again and blinked as the world around him finally came fully into focus. The sound of small waves was combined with the distant rush of a car passing by in the night. Thick clouds of fog rose from between his lips as he let out a breath. The night was freezing and he was wet from head to toe. Carefully he began to pull himself upright. A thousand pinpricks rippled over his skin as he flexed each muscle and his fingers were apparently on another program from the rest of him as they refused to cooperate. Castiel frowned at them but they seemed unimpressed and continued being numb and worthless. He blinked down at his feet to see if they would be any more useful and found that they were still half submerged in the dark water of the reservoir.

Confusion set in heavily but it took a backseat to the desperate plea of his body to seek warmth. Castiel reached to draw his coat tighter around him but his hands closed around nothing but the drenched sleeves of his thin cotton shirt. The reliable trenchcoat he'd worn for several years was gone and a quick search around him assured that it hadn't just fallen off. Castiel stared forlornly into the mirrored surface of the water and mourned the loss of the coat if only because he could have used it right then. He reached inward to draw warmth from his grace but found, much to his dismay, that it too was missing. Confusion quickly turned to fear for a moment as he tried to reach out for the power of heaven only to find it closed off to him.

Fear melted into guilt. Why _**would**_ his brothers and sisters welcome him back? He had somehow survived his ordeal but it did not absolve him of his sins. He glanced far more mournfully into the night sky and squeezed down the feeling of loss that accompanied his distance from home. It was not the first time he'd felt his grace slip away but it had not become easier the second time. Still, he was at least alive for whatever that was worth. He staggered to his feet and began shuffling toward the sound of vehicles beyond the trees in the distance, his hands tucked under his arms as he fought to keep what little body heat he still had. He needed to find Dean, needed to make sure he hadn't done anything horrible to his friend after the Leviathans had taken over, and he knew no one else on the planet would help him now.

It had taken a good hour to get a vehicle to stop and help. An older man in a truck had eventually pulled over and offered a ride. He smelled vaguely of beer and cheap overspiced beef but Castiel was grateful none the less. The man reminded him a little of Bobby. After a few failed attempts at conversation, the trucker had stopped trying and he left Castiel alone to huddle against the small plastic vent blowing hot air. Castiel spent most of the trip wishing it had been a little larger. By the time he had been dropped off at a small gas station, at least his clothes were dry, though his feet remained soggy in his shoes. It was highly uncomfortable. He wandered into the store, pointedly ignoring the loud squelch that occurred with each step, and looked around for a phone to call Dean with. When he finally found one, it was only to remember that he didn't have any coins on him and he didn't know Dean's phone number by heart anyway.

Castiel wandered back to the door and stared out into the darkness. He didn't want to go back outside in the cold but the adolescent boy behind the counter was watching him with wary disapproval so he doubted he'd be allowed to stay long. He had almost steeled himself to head back out when a soft voice with a heavy twang called out just behind him.

"You lost, darlin'?"

Castiel turned and found himself looking into the weathered face of a middle aged woman to whom life did not appear to have been kind. She was dressed in men's clothes and her hair was yanked back in a messy braid that looked like it had seen better days but her eyes were kind and she was looking at him like he was a lost puppy instead of a scruffy man in the remnants of a business suit. "Yes," Castiel replied simply.

"Where you tryin' ta get to?"

Castiel sighed and glanced back out into the night. "My...friends," he said quietly. The words stung. He wasn't sure if he should even call them that anymore. Dean hadn't exactly forgiven him after everything he'd done and he wasn't sure he would fare any better with Sam or Bobby but he had no one else to turn to. "I need to find Singer's Salvage Yard in Sioux Falls, South Dakota," he recited like a child memorizing an address.

The woman smiled at him kindly. "Well, you're not far from Sioux Falls, honey. Let's look up this Singer fella in the yellow pages and I can take ya there."

Castiel cocked his head at her in curiosity. "Why are you helping me?"

She paused on her way to the back of the store and smiled. "Because it's the middle of the night, yer dressed like ya lost yer way to a staff meetin' and I got a soft spot for big blue eyes and helpless men. It's what got me in trouble with my last marriage," she chuckled bitterly before wandering away. It didn't take long to locate Bobby's junk yard and soon enough they were on the way in a beat up Chevy that rattled every time they stopped at a red light. Castiel sat stiffly in the seat and pushed at the fatigue that had slipped up on him. The small display on the dash marked it as well past three am and he wasn't sure what time he'd awoken on the bank. A soft snowfall had started up during the drive and Castiel watched it pile in small drifts across the crease between the hood and where the windshield wipers could reach.

After an hour of driving, they finally pulled past a weathered sign declaring they were in Sioux Falls. Bobby's place was on the outskirts of town so it didn't take long to find it and after only two wrong turns, the old car grumbled up into the driveway. Relief flooded him as Castiel took in the site of the sleek Impala resting just ahead, snow gathering on her hood like a shimmering blanket. It meant Sam and Dean would be inside and that they were safe, something Castiel had refused to consider any alternative to. If anything had happened to them, he knew it would have been his fault. As he stared at the house though, Castiel found his relief waning now that he was faced with the reality of having to talk to Dean again. Worry formed a small ball in the pit of his stomach as he wondered if he'd even be allowed in the house. If he were turned away, he would have no other place to go. His father had always spoken of the power of absolution though and in the end, Castiel knew he had to at least try. Even if Dean slammed the door in his face, he would at least know he'd made his apologies.

A warm calloused hand landed on his forearm and Castiel turned to look at his companion. "You ok, sugar?"

He wasn't sure quite how to explain the situation so he settled for nodding. "Thank you," he said with genuine gratitude.

"You're welcome. Now you go on and get some rest," she said, patting him on the back.

Castiel climbed out of the car and immediately curled in on himself again. The cold was back with a vengeance and he shivered hard as a few snowflakes dropped down the back of his collar. "Oh, and Merry Christmas," the woman called as he moved to close the door.

Castiel froze and glanced back in surprise. "Christmas?" he asked quietly.

"Sure is," she said with a smile, "time gets away from us, don't it? Now go on, go spend time with yer friends. No one should be alone on a night like this."

Castiel stared at her a few moments before finally nodding his thanks and closing the door with a final click. He shuffled through the snow and made his way up the steps, completely unaware as the woman behind him shifted back into a smiling archangel. Gabriel waited until his brother had finally made his way onto the porch before he pulled the old car back out onto the road and made his way a few miles down with it. Some of the other angels had argued his desire to bring Castiel back but his father, who had restored him to being not that long before, had agreed that Castiel deserved a chance to redeem himself and he'd brought back the wayward son in a purely human form. Content that it was their father's will and that Castiel would not be returning to Heaven yet, the other angels had relented and agreed to leave him in peace. It had been Gabriel's job to make sure his brother found his way to the Winchesters in one piece. They had a lot to prove to God as well after their previous treatment of his precious gift to them. They would prove their worth with how they treated Castiel upon his return and Gabriel would happily turn them both into poodles if they didn't do the right thing.

Castiel had finally summoned the courage to knock by the time Gabriel had made his way back to watch unseen from the opposite side of the road. A single candle flickered in the study window downstairs and Castiel stared at it as he rapped quietly. It was the only light on in the whole house and he let himself hold onto the pleasant idea that maybe it was meant for him as a beacon to find his way back. When his first knock went unanswered, he tried again with more force. This time he heard the heavy thump of someone rolling to their feet from the small window seat in the study and a moment later the door creaked open to reveal the sleep rumpled form of one Dean Winchester.

Dean screeched to a halt, whatever snarky words he'd summoned up frozen on his lips, and he blinked a few times in surprise. There was an awkward pause where both men stood staring at each other, Castiel curled in on himself and shivering with cold and guilt while Dean stared in blank confusion as he tried to convince himself he hadn't just lost his mind. The silence stretched on until Castiel finally drew himself up as much as he could despite the cold. "Hello Dean," he said around the annoying click of his own teeth.

"Cas?" the hunter asked with open disbelief and mistrust.

"Yes. The Leviathans are no longer inside me. I am uncertain what has happened but..."

A knife appeared with the blink of an eye and pressed against the soft skin of Castiel's throat. He found it odd that the metal was warmer than the air around him but he found himself trying not to press into the lingering body heat from where it had been pressed against Dean's back. "This isn't funny," Dean growled angrier than Castiel had heard him in quiet some time.

"I wasn't joking," Castiel stated in flat confusion.

Dean stared at him a few more minutes before the knife finally withdrew albeit with a great deal of hesitation. "How?" the hunter asked in a strangled voice.

"I don't know. I awoke on the bank of the reservoir." Castiel paused and looked up guiltily at his friend. "Dean...I...I apologize. My actions placed you and Sam into..." His sentence was cut off abruptly as a strong hand reached out and grabbed hold of his shirt, yanking him forward into a tight hug that knocked the wind from him. It took a few seconds for the former angel to convince himself that this was indeed happening and he awkwardly brought his arms up to return the gesture.

"You stupid, stupid sunnuva bitch," Dean growled against his shoulder in a voice choked with emotion. "We thought you were dead. God dammit, Cas. Where the hell have you been?"

Castiel pressed farther into the warmth of his friend's chest and let his face bury against the cotton shirt beneath his nose. "I think I _**was**_ dead," he said with a matter or factness that sounded strange considering the subject matter, "I have no memory of my whereabouts afterwards."

"Yeah, it's you," Dean mumbled with a chuckle, "No one else could manage to sound like that much of a dork about their own death." He withdrew hesitantly as if afraid Castiel would disappear at any moment should he lose physical contact with him and drew the former angel in out of the cold.

"I never meant to hurt anyone, Dean," Castiel started to say in apology again but Dean waved him off and turned to go into the study.

"Not now, Cas. Just...just drop it for tonight, ok? We can talk about it later." Dean paused in the middle of the room and turned to look back at the shivering form of someone he was sure he had lost up until a few moments ago. He couldn't count the number of times he'd prayed to God to bring Castiel back. The prayers had started fumblingly with promises to be good and then morphed into angry tirades at an unfeeling bastard of a deity that had seen fit to steal Dean's only friend. Eventually he'd given up the last of his pride and resorted to begging but as the months had dragged on, he had become convinced God wasn't listening any more in that moment than he had in any other time previous. Eventually he'd just stopped praying altogether but he couldn't bring himself to stop lighting the single candle in the window. His mother had always told him that was how lost people found their way home and he wasn't sure why the need to do it had been so strong but he'd waved off Bobby and Sam's concern and continued hoping that maybe his mom had been right.

As he watched Castiel glancing around shifting awkwardly from foot to foot, he silently thanked his mother wherever she was. He'd struggled with his feelings about his friend after he'd fetched the dirty trenchcoat from the water and over the months he'd finally come to realize and accept that he had felt more than friendship for the gangly angel. He hadn't wanted to admit it even to himself but with his friend standing only a few feet away again, he decided he was too tired and too relieved to bother trying to fight it. He'd been given a second chance and he wasn't about to lose it. He snagged up the trenchcoat from where it lay folded on the windowseat, it's use as an impromptu pillow suddenly cut short, and he offered it out to his friend. "You uh...you dropped this," he said with a lopsided smile. "Doesn't fit me and I can't pull of the geek look well so here."

Castiel stared at the coat where it hung unfurled from Dean's outstretched arm. He'd thought it was lost in the water and he wasn't sure why knowing Dean had collected it suddenly meant so much to him but it filled his chest with a warm fluttery feeling. He took the coat back with an air of reverence attached more to his friend's act of kindness than to the item itself. "Thank you," he whispered.

The two stood in silence for a few more moments before Dean shrugged. "Ah screw it." He moved over to one of the bookshelves and rifled around for a moment until he found the encyclopedia he was looking for and he flipped through the pages until he located the picture of a leafy plant with red berries he'd been looking for. He waltzed over to his friend and held the book over Castiel's head with a self-deprecating smirk. "Mistletoe," he said proudly, the nervousness evident in his voice despite his attempt to hide it.

Castiel glanced up at the book, his eyes narrowed in confusion. "Yes. It is a poisonous hemi-parasitic plant common to both North America and Europe." He glanced back at Dean and waited for an explanation.

Dean sighed and licked his lips. "Yeah Cas, but it's Christmas." He gestured toward the photo again as if it should have been obvious.

"Yes," Castiel stated obliviously. He was looking at Dean as if the man were spouting a particularly difficult riddle.

Dean cleared his throat and nodded toward the photo. "Uh...we..I mean people, KISS under mistletoe at Christmas," he said pointedly.

"I do not understand the significance of sexual interaction and a poisonous plant."

Dean swallowed and shook his head. "Hell with it." He snapped the book shut and tossed it across the room without a backward glance. Castiel opened his mouth to point out that the book had fallen behind Bobby's desk and that throwing it had served no purpose but his lips were captured in a fierce kiss that left him wide-eyed and frozen in place. Dean gently nipped at his lip in an attempt to coax out some kind of reaction that wouldn't leave him feeling so much like an angel-molester and he was relieved when Castiel finally relaxed into the embrace and hesitatingly returned the kiss. The two parted a few moments later, a little more breathless and disheveled than they were previously and with a new understanding between them that was left unspoken.

"Mistletoe," Castiel stated with a new found awe.

Dean laughed and nodded. "Yeah."

The silence that fell was made a little less awkward by the slowly spreading smile that was forming on Castiel's lips but his next words were cut off by a heavy yawn. Dean smiled and dragged his love over to the window seat before divesting the man of his boots. Tomorrow there would be a lot of questions and Bobby and Sam would have to know what Dean had only just admitted to himself but for tonight, he was content to crawl up next to Castiel and wrap his arms around his angel. As Castiel nuzzled in under his chin and his breathing evened out into the deep low rumble of a snore, Dean smiled up into the falling snow outside. "Thank you," he whispered to whoever might be listening.

He didn't hear the quiet "You're welcome" from the smiling archangel across the road.


End file.
